


Something New

by Zenniet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Collars, Come Inflation, Couch Sex, First Kink Experience, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kink Discovery, M/M, Master/Pet, Nervousness, Original Character(s), Petplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, i dont know what the tag for that is, just a little, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenniet/pseuds/Zenniet
Summary: Fort Max wants to try something new with Scrapfly. Scraps isn't too sure, but as long as it's coming from Max, he'll give it a go.- Done as a request -
Relationships: Fortress Maximus/Original Character(s), Fortress Maximus/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Something New

Scrapfly fiddled with the collar that he held between his servos. It was purple, like some of his accent plating. Fort Max had managed to absolutely nail the exact hue that the soft faux leather should be in order to match him. Of course, Scrapfly hadn’t expected any different from a mech as caring as Fort Max.

That level of kindness and care was the only reason that he was so willing to try something like this in the first place. Had it been with any other bot, well, the outcome would have probably just been a straightforward “no”, and the whole ordeal would have been ended right then and there. It was only with Max that Scrapfly was willing to put so much trust.

He didn’t really know what exactly he was getting into. Max had gone over it with as much detail as he could with just words and no demonstration, but Scrapfly still couldn’t wrap his processor around it fully. He was about to play some sort of submissive role, and he knew that he had rules, and he knew that he was to act as… some kind of animal. But that was the extent of his understanding. He had already asked Max for clarification too many times, in his opinion. He didn’t want his partner to start thinking that he was daft, so he just agreed, despite Max’s probing on _if he was sure_. He was sure. He wasn’t sure about what they were doing, but he was sure that as long as it was with Max, he would be fine and he could figure it out as they went.

Despite his minimal understanding, he couldn’t deny that he was excited. Max would be coming home later, and he had told Scrapfly to do whatever he needed to in order to get comfortable with the idea of what they were about to do.

Scrapfly, not knowing what that was, mostly sat around and waited for Max, fiddling with the collar.

When the door opened, he felt exactly as he thought he would. Nervous.

“Scrapfly?” Max glanced around, “You h- oh!” He found Scrapfly sitting on the couch. It was a sofa sized for a mech like Fort Max, so the minibot was occasionally lost in the dark covered padding. “Sorry.” He approached him and sat next to him.

Scrapfly instinctively turned, his back and wings resting against the couch’s armrest, and the legs pulling up onto the couch so the fronts of his shins could press idly against the side of Fort Max’s thigh in a form of comforting touch. Max threw an arm over the back of the couch and turned his torso t face Scrapfly, but didn’t move his legs lest he break their contact.

“How are you feeling?” The big mech asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He handed the collar off to Max. Dark gray servos took it and undid the silver clasp at the back.

“The first little bit, we’ll be going over stuff and getting you settled. We’ll go as far as you feel comfortable with after that.” Trepidatious, Max did the collar around Scrapfly’s neck cabling. It wasn’t snug, it actually had a little bit of room. Max must have put it on the loosest loop.

Max turned on the television and put on a program, acting as if nothing were different. The only thing he did differently was drop his servo from behind the couch to gently stroke the lower section of Scrapfly’s leg, just since it was close by.

Scrapfly didn’t really get what was happening. All that stuff that they had talked about, the submitting, the following of orders, none of that was happening. For now, he was just lazing around with Max. Was this really what he’d gotten himself so worked up about?

He turned and moved, leaning against Max’s side. He fit nicely there, not too big to claim that spot as his own. His processor was racing with thoughts, a little bit of confusion, mostly scenarios of what could possibly happen next. He didn’t even notice his frame getting stiffer, his shoulders holding more tension, his wings starting to arch and twitch under Max’s doting, petting servo.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Max asked. Through their shared comm link, he pinged a color request and a reminder, _“Don’t forget, pets don’t talk”_, then, a quieter subnote “_unless you want out._”

Scrapfly caught the gist of what Max was saying. He pinged back a ‘green’ and an “_I’m fine_.” Before nuzzling back up against Max’s side and doing his best to shake his awkwardness and relax. He let out a soft whine. That was something pets did, right? It was just a little, breathy noise, but it did the job of catching Max’s attention.

“What’s wrong, puppy?” His servo stopped at the dip Scrapfly’s waist. Right, puppies. Scrapfly remembered learning about those at one of Swerve’s movie nights. “You hungry?”

Scrapfly recalled, with a growling tank, that he hadn’t refueled when he’d gotten back to the room, he’d just gone straight to pacing and thinking about this scene. He nods against Max.

“Let’s get you some food, then, okay?”

Max got up, the sofa recovering from the considerable dip he’d put in it, and walked to the kitchen. There, he picked out a serving dish and rooted around in one of their cupboards until he’d found what he was looking for. Scrapfly, curious, hopped off of the massive couch and walked over to Max. Or, he tried to. A sharp look his way had him freezing just a few steps away.

“Now, now, pets don’t walk on two legs.” He chided with an almost singing note as he poured something hard into the serving dish. Scrapfly’s expression was one of uncertainty as he slowly sunk to his knees, then put his servos on the ground. He crawled the rest of the way to Max, faceplates burning with embarrassment. The sound of his metal against the carpet, then the tile of the kitchen, sounded louder than blaster shots in his audio sensors.

“There’s my good boy.” Max smiled. Scrapfly flushed deeper. He’d do anything to have that smile directed at him. Max stroked his helm, and down his back as he put the serving dish down. On it was a small pile of… What were those?

“Go on, you can eat.”

Max must have gone out and gotten these without Scrapfly knowing, because as far as he could tell, he’d never seen anything like this before. Small energon… cookies? Crackers? He dipped his helm down, having enough sense to know that if he tried to use his servos, Max would correct him. He felt his master’s field against his own, pulsing through a praise. Scrapfly took one of the pieces in his mouth, struggling a little bit without the use of his digits.

It was sweet. It spread across his glossa the more he crunched down on the cracker. It vaguely reminded him of the nutrition biscuits that one would feed a sparkling. He felt strange eating them, if that was truly what they were, but they certainly tasted good.

“You like that, baby?” Max didn’t stop petting him while he ate, and soon enough he was done with the whole tray. His tanks felt satisfied, not too full that it would make him halt their play, but enough that he wouldn’t have to eat again for a little while. A through crossed his processor to lean up into Max’s doting servo, but Scrapfly quickly dismissed that thought. It would be weird to do that, wouldn’t it?

Then he remembered that things like that were what he was actually _supposed_ to be doing. Just a little unsure, he pushed up gently into Max’s touch. His wings fluttered, trying to show as much enthusiasm for this as he could. In response, Max’s field latched onto his and rewarded him by sending soft praise through their connection.

“So sweet,” Max purred. It made Scrapfly shiver. Fort Max’s servo was so big as it pet him. Nice and big and warm and it felt _amazing_. He wished Max would just keep touching him like that and never stop. His processor began to grow… fuzzy, along the edges. His perception narrowed to just that touch and what Max was giving him through his words and his field.

The two spent a little more time on the couch, Scrapfly leaning more and more into Max the fuzzier he let his thoughts get. Though, every time his processor started to think about all the things he would like Max to do to him, and each time he started simply existing in the moment, he couldn’t help but pull himself back to coherency and start to run “what if’s” through his mind.

“Scraps?” Max asked verbally, sending a status request ping through their comms. Scrapfly wanted to fall into the role. He knew that he was getting neurotic and caught up in his own head as it was, and that was _not_ what he was supposed to be doing. He voiced as much to Max in short, clipped sentences through their comms, along with a note of “green” to reply to his status request.

“_Oh, I see._” Max sent back. “_Don’t worry, we can work on that, if you want.”_

With that, he shifted position to lay across the sofa and patted his chest with his servo.

“C’mere, baby.” He called. Scrapfly knew what he was getting at. He crawled over and laid on top of Max. This was a position that he was somewhat familiar with, he’d something lay with Max like this while they were in the berth or relaxing on the couch as they were. But all the other times, Max didn’t pet and stroke down his back and wings, like he was doing now.

Softly, Max let his engine start to rumble lowly. Scrapfly found himself drifting off, almost like he was about to fall into recharge, but not quite. His optics shuttered halfway and he let himself relax. His frame and field softened, the stress slowly melting away. Every now and again, Max’s digits would find the metal clasp at the back of his collar and that simple touch reminded Scrapfly of its existence.

Right. It was a collar. A collar that Max had gotten especially for him. A collar that Max put on him because Fort Max wanted to call Scrapfly his. _His_.

The drop into that submission and that lax, obedient state was like dropping into an abyss, but comforting. As dark as it was- as much as Scrapfly just could no longer quite see what was going on around him besides Max- it was comforting. He felt warm and safe, his worries were suddenly gone.

Max noticed the change. The sudden ease in his EM field, the almost dead weight that rest on top of him. Perfect.

“You feeling good, puppy?” He asked Scrapfly. The minibot rested the side of his helm on Max’s chest and nodded. His processor was still running, but instead of anxiety it was filled with a sharp sense of what Max was doing, and a numb perception of everything else. Aside from that, he wasn’t leaning out of the touches, and the only coherent thoughts that were running through him were about whether or not he liked what was happening in the moment, and what he wanted to do next.

What he wanted to do now was get even closer to Max.

His legs spread and he straddled Max’s front, scooting up so he could bury his helm in the bigger bot’s neck. His processor may have been feeling kind of fuzzy, but his senses were sharper. He could acutely feel Max’s large servo stroking his wings and it caused the beginnings of charge to begin to creep into his frame.

He let out an airy sigh, wings trembling in Max’s hold the more they were touched. Scrapfly also registered Max’s other servo against his aft.

Now, under normal circumstances, Scrapfly would have been more against interfacing on the couch. Something about the mess and the poses that Max had to take in order to fit properly and still manage to frag made it not so comfortable, but now was different. Now, Scrapfly only cared about what his Master wanted to do. He didn’t even think about how good it would feel to have Max’s spike inside of him, he was more focused on if Max would be happy with what they were doing and, if he was, then _that_ was what was going to make Scrapfly feel good.

He whined with the stress of his charge as it built in him. Normally, he would never be so open and wanton about his arousal, but right now he wanted nothing more than to touch and be touched and _make his Master happy_.

His panels popped without him giving the command for them to, but he didn’t mind. His spike pressurized against Max’s belly and his slick valve was right under his Master’s servo.

“Does my puppy want something?” Max chuckled. “I’m not a cruel Master, I’ll let you decide what you want from me. Anything you want and it’s yours.”

Scrapfly flushed at the words. If making a decision would please his Master, then he was going to have to make a decision. He slid down Max’s frame and, optics looking to the floor in embarrassment, ground his slick, hot valve against Max’s shut spike panel.

Before Max could disengage his paneling and let Scrapfly ride his spike, the minibot sat between Max’s pedes and leaned back against the armrest, spreading his legs. If that was the position that his pet wanted to take, then he wasn’t about to complain.

“You want me to be in charge, then?” Max noted, knowing that him being in charge was the basis for this entire scene. One leg kneeling on the couch, the other with his pede on the floor, Max positioned himself between Scrapfly’s legs.

Max then popped his spike panel. His length pressurized immediately into his servo. Before fragging Scrapfly, he always took a moment to stare in amazement at his daunting size compared to how small his partner was, surprised that he could take his whole length.

Scrapfly looked up at him and arched his back ever so slightly, anticipating what he was about to be feeling. Something about it this time felt different, though.

He didn’t feel sultry and provocative like he though the would. In every instance of this kind of submissive play, he’d expected to be treated like shareware and to feel like it too. This was quite the opposite of that. He felt demure, shy. He felt like he was being treated with care. He felt like this was a soft, secret moment that had the same air to it as a sleepy morning together with the sunlight barely peeking in through the windows, casting the room with a faint heavenly glow.

Except it was evening time and he was laid out on the couch in below Fort Max after a day of work.

His processor didn’t register the discord between he what he was feeling versus what was actually going on. It let him stay in that soft, gentle surrounding where he was Max’s and Max was his and they had all the time in the world.

Max leaned down so Scrapfly could hold him and be held by him, the minibot once again burying his face in Max’s neck cabling and breathing in his scent.

The head of Max’s spike pressed against his slick valve pleats before parting them in a slow, languid push to pass his first ring of calipers. Scrapfly gasped, shivering. This felt so much more _intense_ than all the other times they’d fragged, even though Max was being much gentler than he had been on some occasions. He felt like he was being claimed for the first time.

“M- Master,” He whined softly, not sure if he should be saying anything. Max didn’t chide him for it though.

“You’re doing so well, Scraps,” Max purred, slowly inching more and more of his spike into Scrapfly’s tight, wet valve. “Doing so well for your Master.”

Scrapfly couldn’t come up with a coherent response, not that he wanted to. He let out a soft little cry, pressing into Max and holding him tighter. When Max finally bottomed out, Scrapfly felt the intense stretch in his calipers. It made his helm spin. The slow drag of Max’s hips had his spike raking across Scrapfly’s sensitive mesh walls, and it made the smaller bot writhe and grip onto him even harder.

Seeing Scrapfly like this _did things_ to Max. It made his engine growl and his processor feed him the most possessive thoughts. Tying up his little pet, leaving him with a toy in his valve all day, ripping overload after overload from his frame. But that would have to wait until Scrapfly was a little more acclimated to the idea of being his. For now, he was perfectly happy with the way his little pet clung to him as he tenderly fragged him.

“So, _so_ good for me,” Max’s thumb stroked over where he was holding Scrapfly’s hip, his red optics deep and full of lust.

Scrapfly’s soft whimpering grew into breathless moans on each slow rock of Max’s hips. He knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer, but by the way Max’s spike with throbbing inside of him, the bigger mech wasn’t bound to either.

Scrapfly fell over the edge with a wanton cry, his whole frame shaking and his arms holding Max to him as his valve spasmed around his Master’s spike. His overload felt like it lasted _forever_ and when he was finally done, he slumped back against the berth, full of Max’s transfluid. He hadn’t even noticed that the bigger mech was overloading, but he wasn’t unhappy with the results. His servo stroked his front and the gentle bulge that it carried from the sticky fluid that filled him up. Panting, tired, Scrapfly simply laid in Fort Max’s arms for a few moments, comfortable.

“You’re beautiful,” Max purred, one servo gliding down the outside of Scrapfly’s thigh. “I love you.” He pressed a soft kiss to his partner’s forehelm. Scrapfly’s wings twitched. He couldn’t decide what to focus on, the soft, glorious praise that Max was giving him, or his insides still full of transfluid.

He let out a staticky whine as Max pulled his softening spike from him. The fluid that was trapped inside flooded out, pooling at the dip his hips and Max’s knees made in the couch.

“Let’s get you to the berth, okay?” Max said, leaning forward. He scooped up his pet like he was weightless, sending a status request through to him. ‘_Green’_ Scrapfly sent back after a brief pause to collect his thoughts.

“My pretty puppy. Max set Scrapfly down on the massive berth. “Do you want this to come off?” He asked, reaching his servo out to Scrapfly’s collar, but the minibot intercepted it and shook his helm. He kept hold of Max’s servo, scooting closer to the larger mech’s prone frame and curling around the servo, nestling up to him at the same time. His plating cradle’s Max’s hand as his drowsy optics for Max’s.

“You want to recharge?” He asked. Scrapfly nodded. “Okay, we can recharge and we’ll get you all cleaned up after.”

With a gentle, sleepy nod, Scrapfly agreed. His engine purred and his wings twitched idly under Max’s soft petting. He couldn’t have imagined any mech seeing him as cute, or any of the things that Max had told him he was, but as long as it was Max saying it, he was content to accept it.

**Author's Note:**

> Done as a request! Find out how to request stuff from me [here!](https://zenniet.tumblr.com/post/189864077750/how-to-request)


End file.
